


The Cultist's New Clothes

by threewalls



Category: Vagrant Story
Genre: Bladeplay, Fetish Clothing, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-07-10
Updated: 2007-07-10
Packaged: 2017-10-15 11:13:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/160242
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/threewalls/pseuds/threewalls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><cite>"Such exposure is hardly practical for a soldier."</cite></p>
            </blockquote>





	The Cultist's New Clothes

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by lynndyre playing through Vagrant Story for the first time over the weekend and discovering the joy of Hardin's character design.

In recent months, as their persecution at the hands of the Kingsguard and the Cardinal's Blades fouled their chances of regular custom, the chests scattered within Lea Monde had become a boon to Müllenkamp. Due to some lost art worked during their construction, their contents were magically preserved, no matter how long they had rested within. However, Hardin sometimes found himself at a loss to explain what past ages had chosen to preserve.

On his person, these new breeches felt much as he had expected. What he would do at Sydney's urging-- After so many years, Hardin could not honestly say that he was surprised, but he was relieved that Sydney had waited until they were alone.

"There is a glamour cast upon the fabric," Sydney said, perhaps speaking to Hardin's thoughts, or merely guessing. It would be an easy guess. "To those unversed in the Dark, the garment appears whole."

Looking behind himself, Hardin could see that Sydney smirked in candid appreciation. He felt no less foolish, his face no less heated, but found himself grinning as well.

"Such exposure is hardly practical for a soldier," he protested, half in earnest, half in jesting hope that Sydney aimed at more than their amusement.

"Oh, no?"

Sydney ghosted a claw over Hardin's flank, where leather did cover, up towards the centre of his back, where it did not. Setting his palm flat, he pushed, hard, and Hardin stumbled forward, steadying himself bent over a nearby crate. An unseen force held him thus, and he relaxed beneath it, laying his head on folded arms.

From behind, Sydney took firm hold of Hardin's hips, tines just pricking through leather to his skin. Hardin spread his feet, breathing deep and even through that familiar, awkward stretch that would never begin with Sydney's fingers-- were his pants likewise glamoured; that would explain--

Sydney chuckled and bent close over him to nip at the lobe of Hardin's upturned ear.

"Do they seem more practical now?"


End file.
